


Future Firsties

by HeathenVampires



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Any necessary content warnings at the top of each chapter, Multi, Other, along with its ship, too many to fit here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 23:33:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeathenVampires/pseuds/HeathenVampires
Summary: Dumping ground for first chapters of future stories/ideas for them. Could be modern, canon, AU, M rated, T rated, any pairing, no pairing. Who knows!





	1. Rebound

**To clarify; I am _not_ writing this story ** **_yet._ ** **But these starter chapters buzz in my head a lot, so I'm getting them down and you can see what's coming up.**

**For _this_ opener... contains some smut. That's all that is really of concern.  
**

**This won't be like Open in many regards. I mean, Hicretstrid is end game but nobody is poly here at first. There's a clumsy, bumbling journey to that point rather than experienced polyamores. But hey, it'll be fun. I think. Mess of Eretstrid, Hiccstrid, future Hicret + Hicretstrid.**

-HTTYD-

Astrid threw her hands up in exasperation, sighing loudly as Eret just shrugged at her. She was at a complete loss.

"What is it you want? Cus right now, I'm feeling like you want to break up."

Eret shook his head, but Astrid wasn't seeing any real conviction.

"I don't want to break up."

"Then please, for the love of Thor, tell me what's going on with you."

Her boyfriend had always been wonderful. Sweet and caring, a real gentle giant type. Astrid adored him. _Loved_ him. But lately, he was secretive, irritable and Astrid was beginning to fear he was cheating on her.

"There's nothing going on with me."

Running a hand through her hair, Astrid knew if she stayed there would just be another row. She was done with that. Eret wasn't looking at her, so Astrid grabbed her keys, stepped into her shoes and reached for her jacket, wallet a reassuring weight in the pocket.

"This isn't working for me. I can't be around you like this. Call me when you sort your shit out."

"Astrid, wait!"

For a brief second, Astrid hoped he was going to finally tell her what was going on. She looked at him expectantly, but Eret just went silent, and the hope fell flat.

"Fine."

She left, feeling that lump in her throat that Astrid swallowed down. It could wait. Driving straight to Heather's, Astrid let herself in with her key, then flopped down on her friends sofa and allowed the tears to come out.

Heather didn't bat an eye finding Astrid had let herself into her friends house like she lived there. But she was quite perturbed about the crying. They lamented over chocolate and vodka, and while Astrid had a rotten hangover when she rose from her undignified face-plant into one of Heather's pillows, she felt lighter to have gotten all the stress with Eret off her chest. Heather was snoring next to her; the two had shared a bed as kids having sleepovers, and saw no need to change now they were grown.

Astrid clambered from the bed, clutching her skull as she raided the kitchen cabinet for pain killers, guzzled some water before trying to brush the horrid taste from her mouth - she had her own toothbrush, towel, shower gel and shampoo in Heather's bathroom. Hel, she had her own drawer and wardrobe section. Heather had her own things at Astrid's too - they were always prepared for an emergency.

Like Astrid possibly breaking up with her current live-in boyfriend.

Rinsing foam from her mouth, Astrid felt the tablets kicking in and headed out to the kitchen in search of coffee. Heather rose a little later, following much the same ritual as Astrid until they were bundled up under blankets on Heather's sofa.

"So what are you gonna do? You're welcome to crash here if you want to let him stew."

Astrid shook her head, tempting as the prospect was.

"Nah. I'm gonna go home, see if he's ready to talk."

She'd checked her phone at last - Heather had confiscated it when Astrid was drunk - but gotten zero communication from her boyfriend as of yet. Still, she knew Eret wasn't really a texter, and preferred face-to-face communication over phone calls. So maybe he was at home, waiting for her so they could talk.

Leaving Heather's after lunch, when Astrid felt less disgustingly hungover, she drove home with a view to being open, listening to what Eret had to say rather than starting angry. They had had too many fights already.

When she got back, the place was empty. Astrid glanced to the calendar they both wrote their work shifts on, and that day was blank. So she went through looking for signs Eret had even spent the night there, and found little. The bathroom was dry, bed still made and cold. His phone charger wasn't looped up on the bedside table like it usually was.

Astrid scanned the worktops for signs Eret had made breakfast; he was always spilling protein powder or porridge oats on the side. Instead, she found a note in his messy hand resting against her hot chocolate tub.

_Gone to stay at Teeny's to clear my head._

_I love you._

There were a lot of dots and lines before the 'I', as though Eret had placed pen to paper only to change his mind about writing it. She could go to his cousins, she knew where Teeny lived and that he was a reasonable enough guy to not interfere if Astrid wanted to see her boyfriend.

If he was her boyfriend.

Astrid wasn't sure right now.

She texted Heather to update, declined the offer to go over there again. Astrid cleaned when she was stressed, so the vacuum and furniture polish came out. Playing music full blast, Astrid scrubbed and swept and wiped and buffed every surface she could. Four hours later, the place was spotless but she felt no better.

Collapsing into a bed lined with fresh sheets, Astrid sighed deeply and looked at her phone. Nothing from Eret. Despite urges to call him and demand an explanation, Astrid told herself he wanted to cleat his head, and she would offer that time to him.

After three days, Astrid was a little put out but mostly ok. After a week, she sent Eret a text to check he was still alive. He replied, but it was short and functional. Astrid began to wonder if he actually missed her at all. She shook that thought off at first, told herself she was being ridiculous.

After two weeks, those thoughts were becoming more prevalent. Eret still hadn't been home. Not even for spare clothes.

Af week three, Astrid called him while in Heather's living room, cuddling a pillow and demolishing a tub of ice cream. His cousin answered Eret's phone, said Eret didn't want to talk to anybody. Heather did her best to comfort Astrid, but it wasn't enough to prevent an angry blonde telling Teeny to tell Eret Astrid was done waiting around.

"Did you just dump him?"

Heather asked, watching Astrid hang up and grab her ice cream, stabbing viciously at the little chocolate crunch bits.

"Kind of. If he doesn't call me tomorrow I'm going to assume he's made his choice. Honestly, I'm more disappointed about how he's gone about it... I thought he was better than that."

"Yeah. Me too. If you want to move out you know you can have Dagur's old room. Not that I think you should, since he's already gone. But the options there."

Astrid did so adore her best friend and the supportive nature.

"Thanks babe. Assuming he doesn't call me back tomorrow, can we go out?"

"Depends where we're going? Quiet drink? Liver destruction? On the pull? Only I have work the day after, so if it's the last two it'll need to be the night before a day I can be hungover."

"Just a quiet drink. I just want to get out of crying into ice cream and staring at my phone."

Heather nodded, patting her hair affectionately.

"We can do that."

Eret didn't call her. Astrid resigned herself to now being single, deciding her drink with Heather that evening would now be a toast to her future spinsterhood. She dressed for comfort, not caring who saw her in a pub in jeans and a hoody moping that her boyfriend - no, _ex_ boyfriend had turned out to be a complete dick.

Heather followed suit, her well-worn favourite grey jumper draped over her slim frame. They headed out after a quick dinner of steak... only her chef best friend would call steak such a thing. The pub wasn't empty, but peaceful enough that they ordered drinks and found a table with no difficulty. The music wasn't thrilling, but it wasn't so loud they couldn't talk. All in all, it was what Astrid needed to break up her breakup moping.

"So, have you decided about moving out yet?"

"No. When I'm not ready to strangle Eret, I'll think about just throwing his stuff out the window for satisfaction."

Heather snorted into her glass, her fruity cider smelling sweet over Astrid's vodka and coke.

"I'm sure Dagur would help."

"I've no doubt, but I want a clean break from the relationship. Not Eret's legs from his body."

Dagur was a tad overprotective, considered Astrid as much his baby sister as he did Heather. It would be a shock for him too - he actually liked Eret. So the break up might dent that friendship. And Eret's face, if Dagur got the chance.

"I need more alcohol."

"Coke for me" at Astrid's raised eyebrow Heather added "one of us needs to be fit to drive."

Point taken, Astrid headed up to the bar. The guy who had served her was busy with a group of men, but he saw her waiting, turned and whistled to the door behind him. Someone came out, was gestured toward Astrid. Oh, he was pretty though. Bright green eyes, shaggy auburn hair and a jawline he could cut glass on.

"What can I get you?"

Oh. She should talk.

"Do I know you?"

That wasn't a drinks order. Astrid mentally slapped herself. Pretty man cocked his head, then smiled and nodded to himself.

"Astrid. Astrid Hofferson."

"That's me."

"Hiccup Haddock. We went to school together. Granted, I was about a foot shorter and looked about six."

_This_ was Hiccup? Holy Hel. He had grown up.

"Do you work here?"

"Not quite. I live upstairs while I'm between homes, work here to help out. Here on a date?"

Gesturing to her outfit, Astrid gave Hiccup an incredulous look.

"Do I _look_ like I'm on a date?"

Hiccup shrugged, giving her the once over.

"Depends on the date. Drinks?"

"Oh. Right."

Astrid ordered her drinks, paid and returned to Heather.

"What took you so long? The massive queue?"

"Familiar face. Hiccup's on the bar."

"Not Hiccup Haddock?"

"How many Hiccups do _you_ know?"

Heather craned her head, almost falling out of her seat.

"That's _never_ him. Damnnnn."

"Right?"

Taking a sip of her coke, Heather stretched in her seat. Looked at Astrid strangely.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just thinking."

Astrid eyed her friend shrewdly.

"What?"

"Well. You're allowed a rebound. He's cute."

She rolled her eyes at Heather, took a swallow of her drink.

"I distinctly remember not saying on the pull."

"So you don't mind if I hit on him then?"

Astrid glared.

"Not at all."

"Riiiight. So eager to refute me you forget I have a boyfriend."

Astrid was definitely going to kill Heather.

"Shut up."

"Come on. You've not gotten any in a while" yep, Astrid was going to kill her "and there is a hot guy over there who had a crush on you for five years."

_"What?"_

"You never knew? Haddock had it baaaad. Now go hit on him."

"Heather-"

Heather cut her off, literally hand over her mouth and not even blinking when Astrid licked her palm to get rid of it.

"I'm not saying jump the lad. But you wanted a change from crying over Phish Food. When was the last time you even looked at another guy? I know you're bummed out, and he always made you laugh."

Reluctant but aware of Heather's persistence and stubbornness, Astrid got up to return to the bar. Dressed in her comfies and not looking for anything, she hoped Hiccup wasn't on the bar so Heather could shut up and go back to letting Astrid contemplate burning Eret's clothes.

"Another drink already? I hope I'm not enabling a wallowing."

Damnit.

"What makes you say that?"

"I serve alcohol. You sense these things. Wanna talk about it?"

Sighing, Astrid slumped on a bar stool and looked expectantly at Hiccup until he presented her with her next drink.

"Alcohol administered. Talk."

She lamented the trouble with Eret loosely, complaining about an ex and some distress at the way be basically disappeared and ignored her.

"And you didn't go round and kick his ass?"

"Thought about it. But if I'm not even worth talking to... he's certainly not worth that much effort."

"Fair point."

Hiccup stayed chatting to her for a good fifteen minutes, only moving to serve an old lady a whiskey. Heather scuttled closer, nudging Astrid's arm.

"It's gonna get late and I have an early shift. You want a ride?"

Astrid wavered, but she wasn't done drinking.

"I'll get a taxi."

"If you don't come back to mine, let me know you got home alright babe?"

"Will do."

Heather squeezed her arm, kissed her hair, waved at Hiccup and left. Hiccup smiled politely, returned to Astrid's spot at the bar.

"So it was a hot date."

"Totally."

"You can clock off Henry, Gus is here."

Hiccup nodded at the boss man, then turned to Astrid.

"If you want, you can come up and drink and whine about your ex?"

Astrid eyed him suspiciously.

"Are you trying it on Haddock?"

"No, I just know you're a private person. And drinking upstairs with me will be free."

Point taken, Astrid followed Hiccup around the back of the bar and up the stairs, tamping down on an urge to deck the guys wolf-whistling behind them. Did she look like a booty call?

"Please ignore the decor. This isn't a long term place for me."

It was a bit sparse on decorations, aside from drawings stuck to the walls. Hiccup was always drawing.

"If you don't work here what do you do?"

"Part time at my dads garage, part time designer for a motorcycle company. Best of both worlds. You?"

"Personal trainer. With all the ice cream and alcohol I've had recently, I've needed the extra work outs."

Hiccup lifted up a pile of folded clothes and put them on a table, gestured to the available space and Astrid sat on the sofa.

"Speaking of, what's your poison? I have whiskey, beer, vodka and a rather fancy wine... it's not what it sounds like. My uncle kicked the habit, we all cleared out his stash cus he wouldn't hear of it being poured away "

Having been worried Hiccup was a closet alcoholic, Astrid breathed an inward sigh of relief.

"Wine. Heather hates it, so we never drink it."

"Are you fussy about glasses?"

"No?"

Hiccup came out, handed her a tall glass tumbler - not standard wine fare - and plopped down on the other side of the sofa.

"So, would you like to rant some more about your ex? Or get hopelessly drunk and sleep on my sofa? We could do both."

Astrid sipped her wine, which was really quite nice, and sighed.

"You could tell me what this is about."

"How so?"

"Well. We haven't seen each other in six years. You hear I'm recently single and invite me upstairs for a drink. Be fair, it looks suspect."

Hiccup frowned into his drink, then nodded.

"Fair enough. And honestly? You looked sad. I didn't want you to be sad."

"That it?"

He nodded, sipped his glass. Astrid actually believed him.

"So... boyfriend? Work? General life? I am available for all ranting."

"Really?"

"Well, I would wager I'm the only guy you know with an ex boyfriend myself."

Astrid almost dropped her drink.

"You're gay?"

"Nope. Like I said... best of both worlds. I came out at uni, but obviously by then our lives had branched out."

"So, bisexual?"

Hiccup nodded, smiled.

"Does that bother you?"

"Nope. I am curious though. Boyfriend or girlfriend break up that brought you here?"

"Girlfriend. Well. Ex girlfriend. Mom offered to let me move in with her but it would have doubled my commute."

They talked for what felt like hours, only sipping from their drinks when mouths grew dry and Astrid wondered when the last time she'd had such an in depth conversation with someone other than Heather, Dagur or Eret. Not that meaningful conversation with Eret had happened in a while. She had progessively sobered up from a relatively mild alcohol consumption by then, and her notice of how ridiculously pretty Hiccup was hadn't faded.

"Hungry?"

"I could eat."

"Pizza? Brownies? Or if you're on a health thing I've got chicken."

"Brownies."

Astrid immediately craved chocolate when he mentioned it, followed him to his little kitchenette. The haphazard slices said they were someone's home bake, Hiccups expectant expression telling they were probably his. Astrid bit into one, explosion of rich, moist flavour bursting across her tongue.

"Oh my gods, these are amazing."

"Thanks. I like them."

Licking her teeth clean, Astrid resisted the urge to devour the entire plateful. They were delicious, but she'd had enough bad days. Hiccup did the same, then eyed her strangely.

"What is it?"

"You have a little... do you mind?"

Astrid shook her head, watched Hiccup reach out and brush crumbs from her cheek. It must be that she had missed touch for so long, that her breath hitched slightly as his fingers brushed her jaw. If he noticed, Hiccup didn't point it out. He looked away, fingers twitching at his sides.

"Do you want to stay here? Or shall I call you a taxi?"

"Did you really have a crush on me for five years?"

What possessed her to ask, Astrid had no idea. Curiosity? A need to know somebody wanted her?

"That's very specific."

Well, that wasn't an answer.

"Heather told me earlier. Did you?"

"No."

Astrid wasn't sure why, but it stung.

"Fair enough. I should-"

"I still do."

Hiccup's words were low, barely above a whisper but Astrid heard every word.

"What?"

"Come on. You're still the gorgeous, whip-smart blonde you always were. Hel, _more._ Of course I'm still attracted to you."

Astrid looked up, made a snap decision and grabbed the babbling idiots shirt. Hauled him closer, kissed him. Hiccup made a sound of surprise, but he responded eagerly, hands on Astrid's hips. Then he was pushing her away, shaking his head and she missed the chocolate she could taste on his lips.

"Wait. Wait. You're drunk."

"Nope. As my bartender, calculate how many drinks you gave me over how many hours."

Hiccup actually stood there, thinking about it.

"Ok. Not drunk. But-"

Astrid kissed him again, curling her fingers in his ridiculously messy hair. Hiccup's arms held her tight, but he pushed her away again seconds later and left her gasping, breathless. Damn he could kiss.

"What now?"

"I'm not naive, we're both on rebounds. But I don't want you regretting this."

Gods, he was definitely still Hiccup.

"I won't. Will you?"

Hiccup shook his head.

"Gods no."

"Then stop worrying and fuck me."

His mouth landed on hers again, relentless and hungry and Astrid ached with need; she and Eret hadn't had sex, had barely even _touched_ for weeks before the split. Now here was Hiccup all grown up and hot, kissing the living daylights out of her as he tugged up her hoody, hands landing on bare skin revealed. She yanked his shirt up equally eagerly, leaving them both shirtless and Astrid's hand splayed over his groin, felt him swell beneath the fabric there

Astrid found herself braced over the arm of his sofa, bra still on and jeans around her knees as Hiccup probed her with his fingers, joking how fortuitous it was he had only been to th pharmacy that day when he pulled a condom from a bag onthis table. Wanton, needy, she whined in frustration as Hiccup took his sweet time to put the damned thing on.

"Oh, fuck..."

Hiccup filled her steadily, sharp hipbones brushing against her skin as they came flush. He gripped her, so Astrid returned the favour, squeezing at his cock and Hiccup bucked, groaned.

"E-easy!"

"Don't want it easy" Astrid pushed back, words mostly low growls "I want it rough."

His hands stilled her, thrusts shallow. Little more than a tease.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

Pure need rushed her on, urging Hiccup with her until he was moving at last, still shallow thrusts but growing in speed, depth. Hel, confidence. Hiccup clearly enjoyed her responses, and when Astrid moaned and swore as he fucked her, he gave her the rough she craved, hand pressed on her back to pin her slightly, other hand slapping across her ass and Astrid jolted, cried out and shuddered.

"D-do that again!"

Hiccup obliged, slapped her ass again snd _fuck_ that felt good, the pain a delicious burn that fuelled that churning heat his cock stoked with each thrust. His rhythm grew almost punishing and Astrid knew he'd needed it too, the abandon, the quest for pleasure and little more. It was evident in the power behind his hips as they slammed against her, it was there in the vice grip his fingers had in her skin.

Those fingers uncurled, sliding down to press to Astrid's clit, leaving her to topple under the fast, feral blaze they'd sparked between them. Hiccup made his own sounds of satisfaction when Astrid came, buckled under the pleasure himself if his stttering rhythm was any indication.

That first time only took the edge off for both. His sofa, bed and bathroom all saw more of Astrid than most people had, and Astrid woke next morning to Hiccups light snores next to her, a throbbing ache between her thighs that made her smile and a half-dozen missed calls and texts from Heather. The last one insinuated pretty much exactly what had gone on, Astrid going off with Hiccup and so on

Feeling a little guilty, Astrid redressed and slipped out without waking Hiccup. He'd said it himself - they were both on the rebound. Called Heather from her taxi home, looking the absolute epitome of walk of shame and not caring a jot. It had been so good just to have fun again.

Of course, she wasn't expecting to find Eret in their- no, _her_ flat when she walked in. Still with HIccups sweat on her skin and looking truly fucked after not being home all night, Astrid reckoned ex boyfriend knew where ex girlfriend had been.

"What do you want?"

"I'm bisexual."

Ok, she wasn't expecting that as an answer.

"I know. But that doesn't answer my question?"

"You what?"

Astrid had known a while; she saw her man checking out other men all the time.

"Look, Eret, I'm glad you had your epiphany. But I haven't heard off you in a month. And I really need a shower."

Astrid catalogued faint bruises here and there, a bite on her chest. She showered quickly, dressed in fresh clothes and felt infinitely more human for it.

"Ok. Talk."

"Are you seeing someone?"

"No. I did have sex last night, but that was... Why am I explaining myself to you?"

Eret looked hurt, and Astrid realised with a deep pang that she did still love the massive idiot. They sat, talked. And talked. And _talked._

"I was... worried I was gay I guess. I didn't know how to handle it all, so I... I didn't. But I realised I still love you, and I am hoping I didn't ruin us so much we can't work it out."

Astrid didn't regret the previous night, but she also knew as soon as he said it that despite his poor handling, Eret had been in an emotional turmoil and withdrawn completely.

"Alright. We'll try. But no more freeze outs or silent treatment. One chance here bucko."

And so they began work to patch up their relationship. She and Eret talked in depth about his epiphany, about coming out and so on. About how if he ever pulled the same stunt again Astrid would definitely burn his clothes. Heather was glad they made up. It was all good in the Hunter-Hofferson pad - even if Astrid felt bad dropping on Hiccup without a word. It was just a one night thing, they both got what they wanted. Needed. That night.

Content to move on from the bad, Astrid glanced at the calendar in passing to check her shift at the gym. Then spotted something, and started counting. Recounting. Double checking. In all the Eret-based emotions, she hadn't noticed.

She had missed her period.

-HTTYD-

**Probably needs tweaking but I have ideas best kept out of my head. Here's one.**

 


	2. Bloodlines

**Well, the future firsties idea seems to have gone over alright. So here's another firstie for the future.**

**It's gonna end up a Heathcupstrid... but with an incest/pseudo-incest twist.**

**This starter is mostly gonna be story-intro, but won't fit everything in. There's stuff like divorce and remarrying, amongst... other things.**

**Stoick POV is a one off. For good reason. It was awful to write. And no, not _that_ Bertha.**

-HTTYD-

"It's been a year Stoick. It's time to accept she's gone."

The Berk chief grumbled, looking at his toddler son, so like his mother in looks. Right down to that slender build. Spitelout offered unwelcome commentary as he tagged along so his wife could nurse Hiccup, who desperately needed the strengthening feed and had no mother to offer it.

Valka...

"Not until I find her."

"What're ya gonna do? Hope you recognise her bones?"

If it weren't for Hiccup, peering at him with bright green eyes from where he was feeding, Stoick might have slammed his fist into Jorgensons face. Repeatedly.

"Spite, be kind in front of the boy."

"Ah, he doesn't understand do you boyo?"

Little Hiccup averted his eyes, unsettled and unwilling to nurse now. He reached for Stoick, entire body barely the width of his forearm.

"Dada."

Between his fingers was clutched a piece of one of Valka's tunic-dresses, made into a sort of small blanket and it comforted him. He mightn't even remember her when he was grown, but right now Hiccup knew the scent on his blanket was his mother and she was missing.

"Your boy needs a mother. Who's going to watch him when you're off on dragon raids?"

"Mama?"

That word broke Stoick's heart. Maybe he _did_ owe his son someone to take care of him. A mother figure that could fill the hole in his life.

"One more search. Then I'll think about it."

Spitelout sighed, but Stoick was adamant. Leaving Hiccup with his wet nurse, they took off again to search for the Nest. Surely that was where her... body would be? Stoick just wanted closure really. Or at least an end to the hope his wife was alive somewhere.

No. Impossible. Dragons didn't leave anyone alive.

The search was fruitless, costing them boats and men whilst gaining nothing but a few barrels of fish they didn't see much in the seas surrounding their island.

"Dada!"

Hiccup reached for him on sight, uncaring that there was dried blood on his arm and smoky residue on his clothes. Stoick cradled his son, and his resolve steeled - Hiccup needed another parent, rather than being passed around babysitters while Stoick was off chiefing.

As luck would have it, the opportunity presented itself only a matter of months later. Failing to bear him a son, Mogadon, the head of the Meatheads had divorced his wife Bertha. She had already been married to and divorced from Oswald the Agreeable. She'd born _him_ a son, but Mogadon and she had produced a daughter. If rumour was right, the previous 'miscarriage' had been another daughter that was left to the gods in hopes they would send a son next time.

Coerced into seeing that Bertha was both a mother and had connections to multiple tribes, she knew her way around the archipelago and had experience in remarriage... Stoick offered the woman a contract. She was as clear as he that it was a practicality - Bertha got a safe place for her daughter, Astrid, and no concern about being an outcast. Stoick got someone to care for Hiccup, someone to help around the house and keep things going when he was busy.

Aside from consummation, their marriage wasn't physical for a couple of months. Stoick wasn't looking for a love connection - he needed a wife and mother. But gradually, they developed a friendship and had some close nights together. Almost before Stoick knew it, Bertha had fallen pregnant.

Hiccup and Astrid - both almost two, and still not really sure about each other - both responded as positively as infants could at the news of a new sibling. When Heather was born, Stoick felt the first proper sparks of happiness since Valka... went away. He felt _alive_ for the first time in a while, without a dragon at the other end of his axe anyway.

Both Hiccup and Astrid took on protective roles for the smaller child, and that seemed to even help them bond. At least Stoick wasn't worried they would grow up lonely.

* * *

"Who's got my axe?"

"Not me!"

"I need it for dragon training!"

Hiccup covered his ears, not wanting to think about dragon training. For one, he wasn't allowed to join in and that made him even more the embarrassment of the town. His sisters - Astrid his step- and Heather his half-sibling - were geared up to go practice slaughtering the creatures the next day.

And Hiccup? Hiccup had two options. Stay home, or go away. His step-mother Bertha, who of course had raised him since he was just shy of two years old, was getting on in age and often shooed him from under her feet when Hiccup loitered around the house. So he spent a lot of time in his room, or in the back room of the forge designing things everyone - especially his sisters - called total nonsense.

Against those two, Astrid fearless and strong and Heather fierce and agile, already top of the class for weapons training, Hiccup was even more notably skinny and unimpressive. He struggled to lift the swords he sharpened while apprenticing with Gobber, the blacksmith and his unofficial uncle, let alone hurl an axe one handed.

Hel, Heather was two and a half years his junior and allowed to go to dragon training before him. Hiccup was determined to figure out a way to kill a dragon, to become one of the village at last rather than a remnant memory of his dead mother for his disappointed father.

"Found it!"

"Told you I didn't take it."

Before any further discussions about Astrid's axe could be had, the horn sounded outside - the dragons were attacking. Now was his chance! Hiccup waited for his sisters to leave - they were on fire extinguishing, charged with grabbing buckets of water and hurling it rather ineffectively at wooden houses almost burned to cinders by errant dragon blasts.

"Ah! Where are you going? Get upstairs!"

Their mother hadn't yet left, pulling on her armour and weapon to join in the defending of Berk.

"But mom-"

"No!"

"I'm meant to-"

"No! Upstairs!"

Grumbling, Hiccup clambered up the stairs, immediately lying on the floor where he could watch to see his step-mother leave. He knew better than to go out front - Bertha would absolutely wait, knowing Hiccup's penchant for sneaking out. Clutching his dagger, Hiccup slipped out the back door, circled slowly and saw his mother waiting by the front, expecting Hiccup to run straight into her as he had done before.

But a screeching Monstrous Nightmare attack drew her away, and Hiccup was able to slip by unnoticed. He was small and quick, but equally so that made him recognisable.

"What are you doing out?"

"Get inside!"

Before he could even cross half the square, staring enviously at where his sisters looked cool and dramatic as they ran with buckets into burning buildings as he ran, Hiccup felt a meaty hand close around his collar and bodily haul him backwards.

"What are you doing out again? Get inside!"

His dad shoved him, Hiccup stumbling as he kept running. Knowing he wouldn't be able to sneak off under his fathers glare, he reluctantly headed to the forge.

"Nice of you to show up for work! Thought you'd been carried off."

"Who me? I'm way too muscular for their tastes!"

They moved around each other in a fairly practiced manner, repairing weapons that were dented and battered by dragon hide or flame. When a dragon came tumbling down nearby, Gobber saw Hiccup lean out wistfully, itching to go and prove himself. Prepared, he hooked Hiccups tunic and hauled him back.

"Please? I need to make my mark!"

"You've made plenty of marks, all in the wrong places!"

"I'll kill a dragon! I might even get a date!"

"You can't lift a hammer! You can't swing an axe! You can't even throw one of these!"

Gobber waved a bola, which was ripped from his hand and hurled toward a dragon. Hiccup indicated his bola-slinging contraption, grinning.

"This will throw it for me!"

As Hiccup patted it, it accidentally flung the bola, and with no room to untangle it was effectively small but heavy balls cracking someone square in the helmet. The Viking dropped like a stone, so Hiccup winced slightly.

"Seriously?"

"Mild calibration error!"

Gobber kept trying to talk him down, but eventually he had to go help fight, leaving Hiccup by himself. As soon as he was unobserved, Hiccup reloaded his shooter, pulled on his fur vest and began running for his life with the bola-firer bouncing precariously on its wheels as he dashed between several dozen tussles between Viking and dragon.

"What're you doing?"

"Get back inside!"

"Yep, be right back!"

He made it up the hill, giving him a clear shot across the horizon. Of course, there were exactly zero dragons there to aim at.

"Come on, give me something to shoot at..."

Hiccup had all but given up when he heard that distinctive roar, knew it was the one. The _Night Fury._ Hiccup would never get a chance like this again. He scanned the dark sky, spotted the merest shadow flit across otherwise bright stars. He took aim, closed his eyes and fired, praying to the gods the entire time.

Against all odds, Hiccup heard it make purchase, saw the Night Fury go hurtling down toward Raven Point. Ecstatic, Hiccup began cheering. He was promptly chased by a rather pissed off Monstrous Nightmare, and there _might_ have been a mishap or two as he was chased through the village by five thousand pounds of angry firebreathing lizard.

Unsurprisingly, nobody believed Hiccup when he said he hit a Night Fury. His sisters and the other kids laughed and joked at his expense as Gobber dragged him home, but that was nothing new. As soon as Gobber dropped him off, Hiccup ran through the hut and jumped out the back again.

He'd find that downed dragon. Then he would show all of them.

-HTTYD-

**This might be one of the worst things I've ever written and don't be surprised if I take it down again but hey here is a brief thing about how I'm gonna write a messy ol' Heathcupstrid with incest and pseudo-incest at some point.**

**HTTYD incest. Canon verse. And not Valcup! Who'da thunk it.**

**I still hate this.**


	3. Regal

**This idea initially came from a joking chat of what constitutes a** **_modern_ ** **AU but sort of tumbled down a hill into a giant snowball that now becomes a story...**

**Pairings will include Hiccup/Valka/Astrid/Heather and a multitude of variations thereupon. It's set in the 1850s.**

**There's too much intricacy to go into all at once up here, so we'll go with the content warnings and learn as we go.**

**Talk of character death will occur. Uh. Period-consistent homophobia from external characters. Incest (Valka/Hiccup). Lots of sexy times between 2 to 4 people. I think thats everything. Damn intro authors notes.**

-HTTYD-

Grimacing as he straightened up, Hiccup cursed his leg but smiled at the work he'd just checked. The stitching was flawless, the cut perfect. Even the fussiest of fussy old noblewomen could not possibly fault _this_ dress. Granted, she'd probably think less of it on principle if she knew how young he was, but that was why Hiccup lied about his age.

That, and it helped explain why he was an unwed dressmaker - if everyone knew his true age, they would assume he was _different._ There were a few mutters as it was, but between his false age, his false leg and his hard work, he was mostly left to be a war-wounded, bitter loner who happened to be a fantastic dressmaker. He was a tailor to men too, but the dresses were what kept him making money, kept his shop going strong enough to support himself.

It wasn't like he had much choice; he had no parents after all.

Hiccup had been raised by his dad, and only his dad. He barely remembered his mother. From what he remembered - his dad hadn't liked to talk about her - she had simply vanished on them. His father was an heir to _his_ fathers title, as the eldest brother, but Stoick had a great sense of service and protection, and so naturally he'd gravitated to military service. His posting took him far from where he and his wife were set up, and Stoick brought Hiccup with him. His mother had been meant to join them.

She never did.

For all he knew, she was dead. Or maybe remarried, with more children. Hel, Hiccup could walk past her in the street and not know it, with the blurry memories that were all he had left of her.

"Is my order ready yet Haddock?"

No hello, no manners. Hiccup was pretty sure the woman had been taught better than that. Apparently her etiquette training didn't extend to her dressmaker. Rolling his eyes inwardly, Hiccup brushed a few bits of scrap fabric from his thighs before straightening his posture and heading through to the front. He added the shortest, barely-genuine bow to his greeting, teeth grit against the urge to tell her to go away - she was horrid to deal with, but his richest, highest-paying customer, and the possible avenue to more recommendations for people in her price bracket that could elevate his income and reputation hugely.

"Lady Stewart. The evening gown, yes?"

"Are you incompetent?"

"No, just very busy and want to ensure you get the correct attire."

"I should think I am a priority."

Given the rush she paid for, Hiccup _had_ prioritised her over half a dozen other projects.

"Of course. You wouldn't want to go home with someone elses clothes would you? I'll just go get it now."

Naturally, she scoured every inch of it, searching for a missed stitch or a bit of ragged fabric. With a grunt of acceptance, she dropped the money pouch on the counter and swept off out. Waiting until the door had closed behind her, blocking the brisk wind outside, Hiccup let out the breath he'd been holding, posture sinking slightly to something more comfortable for his stupid injured limb. He'd barely signed up for the Navy when his father was killed in action in the Army, and before Hiccup had really dealt with the death, he was off to fight himself against the illegal slave trades in Africa.

There, he'd been injured, losing his foot and a little of his leg, getting discharged from the Navy in the process. His prosthetic wasn't amazing, but it was better than not being able to walk. Or not coming back at all. Others, he knew, weren't so lucky. Other men, barely more than boys, had never come home.

He'd tried to... but _that_ hadn't worked. So, with nobody else, Hiccup had to figure out life on his own. A dab hand at sewing after learning to repair his uniform at sea, and uncommonly dextrous before that, the wounded 'hero' had found work as a dressmakers aide. The man he'd worked for was old, barely lasted long enough to apprentice Hiccup to a point he could work unsupervised before he retired, and died only a little after that. Even then, he was fairly rare in being a lone male worker, though that might have been his rampant misogyny.

Strangely, the man had never married.

Hiccup took over the shop, and though it wasn't much cop there was a steady stream of working-class customers who needed ready-made clothes that kept the minimum costs covered. And, with his attention to detail, Hiccup had landed himself a well-off customer who noticed the 'uncommonly fine' work on the dress of her childrens governness. It wasn't much, but it was a start. Stewart made sure he knew that she was doing _him_ a favour, dangled the prospect of 'advertising' him to the rest of society some time, but

If he landed a couple more high-paying customers who wanted the tailored, one-of-a-kind dresses Hiccup specialised in, he'd be able to hire another, train someone, elevate himself to 'boss' rather than 'lone worker'.

It might be nice to have company... Hiccup didn't speak to many people. He lived above the shop, spent all his time making things, buying fabric, selling clothes.

A couple of customers came in that day for his cheap shirts and trousers, another couple in for measurements and one man in to have his suit adjusted. Hiccup spent every minute in between customers working on his stack of projects, weaving fabric around the crinoline. They were new - Hiccup left when women only had starched petticoats to support their dress, and came back just in time for the invention of a cage that held up skirts. If he landed richer customers, he'd need to be a master of the new cages. He was already skilled, but still.

There was a wave of the working servants in his store fairly soon after Stewart picked up her dress, only a matter of days and Hiccup realised that the new Season was upon them. He had a pretty solid reputation for high quality work to those who came in, even for the price - materials cost the same, it was his labour Hiccup was told he undercharged for, but he'd rather be affordable and have steady business, and not take advantage of peoples limited funds by offering sub-par work. So, as he kitted out those expected to look like servants but still presentable, Hiccup chewed on his bitter loneliness as he heard passing people in the street talk about all the potential upcoming engagements.

"Are you sure this is the place girls?"

"I swear, she told me it was the one with the fish drawn in the window."

"There is a fish, and _that_ looks like the dress she mentioned in the window."

Voices sounded outside, one older and softer, two younger and more excitable. Brushing himself down - new customers? - Hiccup waited to see if they came in, leg twinging anxiously.

"She did say it didn't look like much from the outside either, but you _saw_ that dress!"

"Quite, I did. Well, let's not loiter outside any longer. I'd be remiss in letting you catch a chill."

The little bell rang as the door opened, and Hiccup immediately wished he'd dusted as he saw the soft leather boots, intricate lacing a dead giveaway to someone who made clothes for a living. These were women of standing, probably of money - the two younger, at least. The older... she was looking at Hiccup rather oddly, but her attire suggested domestic work. Not a governess, but perhaps a lady's maid?

"Can I help you ladies?"

He painted a slightly strange picture to new custom, he knew - a tape measure around his neck, a pencil behind his ear, little handy pouches of needle or thread randomly attached to his arm or belt or sometimes tucked into a shirt pocket, creating a peculiar bulge. Then there was the leg, and his messy hair - grown out from its military cut - and diluted accent and the freckles of someone part-Scottish who had spent time near Africa.

"Yeah. We were... referred, is that the word? Referred by a woman who I think wants me to marry her son."

"Heather!"

The older woman finally tore her eyes from Hiccup, scolded the dark haired younger, the younger blonde woman looking around the shop before settling back on Hiccup.

"What? She does! Anyway. She said that you were good, and unknown, which appeals to me for reasons I will get yelled at by my Lady's maid for disclosing. So, do you have any examples to show us?"

"I do, they are further back though, I try not to let the front of store get too cluttered and many of my customers are men."

Learning by the way they looked to 'Heather' first, Hiccup surmised he had a Lady, a Lady's companion and a Lady's maid in his shop. He understood more about nobility than most of the local peasantry, he'd wager. The older woman definitely wasn't Heather's mother, he could tell by the way their body language responded to each others proximity.

"Those aren't complete, but these are."

Stewart was old-school, still wore starched petticoat skirts. If Hiccup wanted to move on up a little? He'd need younger blood, women who wanted his hoop skirts. He'd tried them on himself, testing the way they twirled (when the store was closed, naturally) and that he'd balanced the fabric-to-cage ratio right. He knew how to fit them to a body once he'd measured them. He just needed the _chance_ to prove it.

"You _made_ this. By yourself? From scratch?"

"I made everything in here. Well, not the furniture, but everything made from fabric or leather are mine."

He was half-expecting a reprimand from the Lady's maid for his cavalier sarcasm, but she was still... _looking_ at him. It was a little strange, honestly.

"Wow. Alright, Stewart wasn't kidding about undiscovered talent I guess. Astrid and I need dresses."

"Occasion?"

"A ball, one potential suitors may be in attendance at."

"Evening then, I take it?"

"Indeed."

Pulling his tape measure from around his neck, Hiccup approached 'Heather' in slow, steady steps.

"May I take your measurements?"

"Can you be trusted?"

There was something playful in her smile, but it was hardly the time or place for Hiccup to engage in anything that could be even slightly miscontrued as inappropriate. Especially when asking a woman of such standing to take off a few articles of clothing so he could measure her properly.

"I'm a professional."

Heather slipped off her shawl, her hat, her gloves and her maid took those and her bag, letting Hiccup navigate his way around her with his tape measure, lifting and relaxing and breathing in where asked, indicating where her neckline ought to sit - for daywear, the high collar she had on made measuring to accomodate the right dip more difficult.

"Will you be wearing a camisole, or would you prefer your dress to have a protective shield sewn in? Strictly indoor, or garden party requiring a replaceable ruffle?"

Jotting down her measurements and answers, Hiccup next turned to Astrid, who was already out of her top-layers, bright blue eyes watching him move around her. It required touching, more than he'd be allowed to do in just about any other circumstance, but for Hiccup this part was impersonal, purely functional for work.

"When will they be ready?"

"Well that depends. I do offer a rush service for an additional charge, but for the standard price... a week until both are ready."

He'd be sewing until he bled, until his hands cramped and his fingers refused to cooperate either way, but a week _would_ give Hiccup time to make some more of the cheap, pre-made things people often came to him for in between working the dresses.

"A week is fine. Valka, would you?"

Finally hearing the name of the maid, Hiccup took his up-front payment - covering the expensive materials he'd need, as well as effectively securing his time to be spent upon the project. Bidding the two ladies and the maid goodbye, Hiccup watched absently as layers went back on, mind starting to plan shapes and cuts and a special stitch he liked using on the inside-shield that would prevent perspiration staining the dress.

Fingers touched his cheek, surprising everyone, it seemed.

"How old are you?"

Hiccup answered - he used a false name for safety, a false age for respect. With his military wound, he hadn't had much trouble with disbelief of identity. Valka frowned, shaking her head before turning.

"I apologise. I thought- never mind. Come along girls."

Confused, Hiccup waited for the door to close before raising his hand to his face, covering where Valka had touched him. It had been oddly intimate - he touched customers all the time for work. It wasn't often somebody touched _him._

His cheek was still tingling hours later.

-HTTYD-

**Ugh this could be straight nonsense for all I know. Probably needs some finetuning to be actually Victorian. I'm not much cop at history, but I'm trying.**


	4. Voyeur

**Ok, you guys don't seem to understand Future Firsties. These stories** **_will_ ** **get written. I just like having a solid base to start with, and I'm a lot more likely to actually commit to something that isn't just a vague, floating idea.  
**

**But I'm not good at organising, so I can't promise when any will start. If you follow me at all, you'll know I'm already juggling a bunch of stories and several are already neglected. Future Firsties was made as a way for me to solidify an idea, so I could focus on something else. Patience appreciated.**

**This is... it's not straight up Hiccstrid, but it's also not _not_ Hiccstrid.**

-HTTYD-

"It's pretty simple really. If you make a mess, clean it up and I won't have to kill you in your sleep. Kitchen. Bathroom. If you're obsessive about showering at certain times, then now would be a good time to mention it. And that's your bedroom."

Hiccup blinked, brain honestly still a little short-circuited from earlier, when he'd knocked on to come see a room he planned to rent and the door had been answered by an incredibly attractive blonde in shorts and a form-fitting running tee. She'd mentioned he caught her just before she went on a run, and appeared keen to be done with the showing.

"Uh, I usually like to shower before I leave for class, if that's ok?"

"Sure. I work from home mostly, so as long as you don't wake me too early by banging around out here you can do what you like in the morning. Oh, and one more thing, it's only fair to add since the walls are paper thin in here."

"What is it?"

Astrid - the attractive blonde potential flatmate - eyed Hiccup, obviously watching for a response.

"I like sex. I have overnight guests alot. Is that going to be a problem for you?"

Ok, Hiccup had not been expecting this when someone told him a room was available near campus, knowing he was desperate to get away from the slovenly pothead working their way toward a total fail at university he currently lived with. Trying to ignore the images in his mind popping up, Hiccup quickly answered.

"Well, I guess not. I just need somewhere to eat, sleep, work and shower. On the same note of _noise,_ I like study music. If it's not while you're sleeping, is that ok?"

Astrid nodded.

"Fine."

After a brief discussion of rent and utlities costs, Hiccup was agreeing to move in the next week - he'd put his notice in with his slightly shady landlord already.

"You better not turn out to be a serial killer or something. I sleep with an axe under my bed."

Was Astrid's parting comment as she shooed him out to go for her run, and honestly? Hiccup sorta believed her.

He picked up a key from her a few days later, working around university to pack up and move by the agreed upon date. His now former cohabitant barely seemed to notice Hiccup leaving, though he'd probably notice when the dirty plates started piling up in the kitchen. Hiccup did let him know, but it didn't seem to go in.

Astrid was a surprisingly pleasant flatmate, once the initial prickling had passed. She had little patience for being annoyed, and Hiccup saw her punch a guy out cold for not taking no for an answer, the first time he invited her along to a party with his friends - it had seemed polite, since they now lived together.

His friends had been so amused they said he was welcome to bring her back anytime.

"So" Astrid, having just risen at eleven in the morning, asked as she slumped over the side clutching coffee "what do you actually study? I haven't asked yet."

Hiccup, who had been awake a couple of hours and was presently making lunch to take with him, so he could go to his lecture and then on to the library to work, answered shortly.

"Aeronautical Engineering."

"Ok, I sorta know what one of those words means."

"Hang on" Hiccup dipped out of the kitchen area, grabbed a prospectus from a box in the living room and dropped it in front of Astrid "here."

"Aeronautical engineering degrees represent the branch of engineering that deals with the research, design, development, construction, testing, science and technology of aircrafts... so you like stuff that flies?"

"Pretty much. I like designing, developing, building. And the rest. It's tough, but I love it."

"Nerd."

Hiccup grinned.

"That's what they tell me. You want food before I go?"

"Nah, I don't eat before I run. Thanks though."

Nodding, Hiccup bade her goodbye, grabbed his stuff and headed out. So long as he was quiet between the hours of midnight and ten am mostly, Hiccup had zero problems living around Astrid. Except perhaps the problem where she didn't wear a lot of clothes, and Hiccup had to not look. Not that Astrid really seemed to mind when she caught him looking once or twice. He got the feeling she _knew_ she was gorgeous, and seemed to operate on a "look-but-don't-touch" with everyone. And Hiccup was very good at keeping his hands to himself.

In return for his quiet while she slept and not leaving a mess everywhere, Astrid was polite enough to let him know - by text or in person - if someone was coming over. Her words of it being quite a regular occurrence were certainly not a lie, but Hiccup figured Astrid knew what she was doing, and could take care of herself. Condom wrappers in the bathroom bin told she was being _careful,_ too.

She was _not_ quiet, though, Hiccup noticed. After a month or so living with her, Hiccup had already worked out how likely it was he'd meet the person the next morning, based on Astrid's vocalisations the night before. Mostly men, but she brought home women regularly too. Sometimes both. If they were good, they generally got to stay the night. If not, Astrid kicked them out more often than not.

Still, she kept it contained to her bedroom as far as Hiccup knew, and it was really none of his business what Astrid did. They just shared a living space - he worked on his degree, she did... actually, Hiccup wasn't sure what Astrid did for a living. She hadn't volunteered that information yet, only that she worked from home mostly.

"Hey, Hiccup?"

"Yeah?"

He looked up from his textbook, Astrid sitting down on the sofa opposite so he put the book down, offered her his undivided attention.

"Does me having people over a lot not... bother you?"

"No. I mean, sometimes it goes on a little late when I have an early lecture, but that's why the gods gave us earplugs. Why?"

Astrid shrugged.

"It's sorta why my last flatmate moved out. Well. I kicked her out for calling me all the usual. Slut, whore, that sort of thing."

"Oh. Well, no. I don't... you're a consenting adult doing stuff with other consenting adults. If you were a guy bringing home a different girl most nights, _nobody_ would bat an eye, and I don't have double standards. It's not my business so long as I don't find bodily fluids in places they shouldn't be."

She laughed.

"I will bear that in mind. I just wanted to be sure. You're real easy to live with, I'd hate to have to try and find someone as not-annoying as you all over again."

"Then we have no problem."

Shifting to cross her legs more comfortably, Astrid smiled.

"I'm glad."

Then she glanced at her phone.

"Expecting company tonight?"

"Not sure yet. Talking to a couple of guys on Tinder. Might hit up my ex if they don't work out. I'll let you know if anything definite is happening."

He already knew she and her ex boyfriend had a friends-with-benefits deal going on, hitting each other up if they were hard up. Hiccup headed to the kitchen to cook himself dinner, Astrid declining since she'd not long got back from a run and a protein shake. Humming to himself as he stirred, Astrid appeared a few minutes later.

"Well?"

"Ex texted me before I texted him, he'll be by in about an hour. That ok?"

"Sure."

Hiccup ate, cleaned up his mess and headed to his room in plenty of time for Astrid's 'date' of the evening to turn up. He'd met the ex in question a few times; he seemed like a good guy, he and Astrid just realised they weren't long-term compatible and broke off the relationship, though apparently the sex was good enough that they kept that part up. Putting his earplugs in well in advance, Hiccup got an early night for his early lecture.

Astrid and her guest had not yet risen from the bedsheets when he was leaving, though that didn't surprise Hiccup one bit. Cramming breakfast into his mouth, Hiccup headed off to uni. Halfway there, he remembered leaving his textbook on the living room table the night before, cursing. He needed it for studying after, and the library never seemed to have a copy when he needed it.

Swearing under his breath, Hiccup climbed the stairs to their place, knowing he'd be late for his lecture now. He so hated being late. The door wasn't locked, so he stepped in, distraction of lateness and textbook fading somewhat when Hiccup realised what he'd walked in on.

He couldn't see _everything,_ but gods Hiccup could see enough.

Astrid, shoulders bare and the tantalising peek of equally bare breasts visible through her hair as she rose up and down. Her hair was still down, loose, a little wavy from being braided the night before. The back of the sofa obscured most of his view, but between Astrid's movements and the noises he could hear, Hiccup was pretty certain he'd accidentally intruded on her having sex in the living room.

He should leave. He could live without the textbook. If he ran, he might only be a couple of minutes late. Unfortunately, Hiccup's feet appeared to be glued to the floor, and his eyes glued... somewhere they probably shouldn't be. Astrid did not appear to have noticed him. Hiccup thought about coughing, or clearing his throat or perhaps fainting on the spot, but his brain had frozen up somewhat. She kept going, riding her lover, moaning and arching her back as Astrid chased her pleasure from the others body.

Then, just when Hiccup thought he might spontaneously combust from arousal and embarrassment rolled into one, his cheeks flushing as more blood pumped south...

Astrid turned toward him and _winked._

Fuck, she knew he was there. Knew he was watching. Hiccup really ought to go.

He didn't; he was still rooted to the spot when Astrid began to shake, making those sounds Hiccup had learned through the walls by now that meant she was in the throes of climax, head thrown back as she bucked and cried out. Even then, she didn't stop, moving until there were answering sounds of satisfaction from the man underneath her. After a minute, sounds of ragged breathing all that broke the silence, Astrid turned toward him again, doing a double take.

"Hiccup!"

Why was she acting surprised he was there? Hiccup was confused.

"Wait, what does your roommate have to do with this?"

"Nothing. Except he's right there."

A familiar-ish face appeared around level with Astrid's chest.

"Oh. Uh. Hey Hiccup."

"Hi Eret. I uh... I just..." what had he come back for again? "I forgot my... textbook. I didn't see anything! I uh, I am gonna go now."

"Wait" what in _Hel_ could Astrid want him to stick around for "here."

As if seeing if she could actually make him burst a blood vessel or spontaneously combust, Astrid leant over toward the table, then rose higher on her knees and Hiccup got a very blatant view of her naked chest as she held out his textbook. It felt like a challenge. Especially when she was smirking just a little.

"Uh. Thanks."

Hiccup stayed as far away as he could. grabbed his book quickly and did his best not to simply sprint out of the front door. Oh gods, had Astrid noticed he was hard? Probably. She was usually pretty observant. Determinedly ignoring said erection, Hiccup headed off to university. He was too late to really bother going to lecture, but he tracked down a classmate and asked for the missed work in the library.

"Since when do you miss any?"

"I forgot my book and had to go back, by the time I got going again it was too late to go."

Justin handed over his notes for Hiccup to copy out, chatting about the content all the while. Hiccup may or may not have spent longer than he needed in the library that day, and it might have been so he didn't have to go home and deal with the awkwardness of catching Astrid in the act of sex with her ex.

Even so, he couldn't put it off forever, and Astrid would _know_ exactly why he was avoiding their place. So reluctantly, Hiccup headed back after finishing catching up with Justin and his work. Astrid was in the kitchen, looked up when he came in but didn't immediately accuse him of being a pervert. Was that good?

"Hi. Uh, sorry about earlier."

Taking a swallow from her glass, eyes never leaving his, Astrid smirked.

"Are you though? Cus I can't help but notice you didn't leave."

"I was... shocked."

_"Just_ shocked?"

The situation was rapidly losing control, Hiccup decided. How was he supposed to answer?

"Mhmm."

"Shame."

Hiccup blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"I said it was a shame you were only shocked. Cus I gotta admit, I kinda liked it."

"You... what?"

Astrid shrugged, nonchalant and not even slightly mortified like Hiccup still sort of was.

"I liked it. Guess I had a voyeur kink I didn't know about. I'll be remembering that."

She walked past him, drink in hand as she headed toward her bedroom. Hiccup tried not to say it, but the words blurted themselves out anyway.

"I liked it too."

-HTTYD-

**I totally am not procrastinating anything while writing this, nuh uh. Ok. Maybe a little. But hey, a new FF!**


	5. Changed

**(to anyone waiting on previous stories in Future Firsties, please calm down. I'm not starting new stories until I finish others!)**

**A couple I always intended to write and never quite got to (I mean there's Dragon Lady but that's a threesome)...**

**Valka x Eret! It's a sort of... pre HTTYD2 divergence. Like... two or three years before HTTYD2.  
**

-HTTYD-

She slipped from Cloudjumpers back with barely a sound, landing on some grass near the patch of ground where the cages were kept. It was a stop-over island, where those who captured dragons waited to meet those who bought them. An excellent spot to break the chain of supply to demand. And, as Valka knew, it was a night when the buyers wouldn't be coming, and so the only guards were the sailors themselves - largely drunk or unconscious at that hour.

Cloudjumper landed next to her, padding along ready to help pick locks with the wonderfully dextrous hooks on his wings. Several dragons were still sedated, but a few were waking up and Valka had to try to settle them before they raised the alarm.

"Hush... it's alright. You're safe. Come on Cloudjumper."

Valka scuttled along to the next cage, picking the lock herself with a thin piece of metal she'd found worked on most, The juvenile Typhoomerang grumbled in thanks before taking flight immediately. She would have gone after it, but they didn't have time and Valka knew they would probably catch up on the flight home. At least his deep green colouring meant he wasn't _too_ distinctive against the night sky, unlike the bright orange Windgnasher she was freeing.

"Shh, we'll take you somewhere safe. Don't worry my dear."

The dragon pushed against her outstretched hand, still trembling with fear but he was freed, and so she must have seemed safer to him than his captors.

"Hey! That dragons out of its cage!"

Odin, they must have spotted Cloudjumper. Valka rattled her staff, instructing Cloudjumper to finish retrieving the rescues. As she headed to see if the approaching humans were armed, she spotted a dragon by itself, curled up rather sadly and her heart _ached_ for the poor creature. If they hadn't bothered caging it, they obviously had no hopes it would survive but left it dying where the other dragons could only watch, helpless.

Swelling with rage, Valka raised her staff - it was designed to be safe for dragons, but not people. Three trappers rushed closer and Valka surged forward, knocking the one closest down before he'd had chance to draw his sword. The other two both swung, her staff blocking bloth blades before she backed up, swiped, sent both staggering.

"Cloudjumper!"

Her dragon roared, the metallic creak of another cage drowned out by an angry roar as her new Windgnasher friend leapt in, spitting icy blasts at the trappers and trying to put himself between them and Valka.

How did anyone ever misunderstand these wonderful, _beautiful_ creatures?

She rattled her staff in signal to the dragon on guard - Incognito, a Changewing chosen specially for raids as he could _hide._ Incognito got the message, appearing from nowhere and telling the dragons to follow him, he'd lead them back to the sanctuary. Cloudjumper finished opening the final cage, freeing a Zippleback who took off after the others quickly while her Stormcutter approached Valka, rearing up and flaring his fins with an angry roar.

If that dragon was dying, Valka would not let it die in such a gods-forsaken place. And there might have been something she could do for it. Creeping closer while Cloudjumper watched the trappers, Valka identified the spine crown that said Nadder, spines almost flat to their head saying this dragon was quite sick. She worried they would not survive the trip back, but Valka knew she had to try. Cloudjumper nodded to her silent look, scooping her onto his head and using his tail to scatter the trappers before spreading his wings, carefully lifting the Nadder with his legs. Valka knew they could hold tight if needed; she'd been carried by them herself that first night.

"Hey! Get back here!"

"Go Cloudjumper!"

They took off at speed, a bumpy rise but they were soon in the air, flying away from that awful place. Incognito had done an aerial swoop, and the island was only being used by that crew tonight. Several parts of the ocean were frozen, slowing the sailors down. It certainly made Valka's task easier for the moment.

As they flew, Valka smiled to see the Windgnasher flying close by her. There was always one that seemed extra thankful to her, one that stuck close by on the fly home. The flight would have been almost pleasant, if not for the worry over the Nadder Cloudjumper carried, and the sight of a ship that clearly sought to pose threat to dragons. She spotted two in ropes already, asking Cloudjumper to drop her down but keep the Nadder safe. The crew were recognisable, or at least, their tattoos were. She'd definitely dealt with this trapper tribe before.

"It's the Dragon Rider!"

Cloudjumper was an excellent shot; his torus of flame didn't so much as graze Valka, but it scattered the trappers. She used the dagger strapped to her thigh to cut the ropes on the dragons, the Windgnasher bravely ducking down to retrieve her. Valka turned to check the dragons - a Snafflefang and a Nightmare - were taking off, before they all headed on to get them back safely.

The Windgnasher jolted, but Valka thought little of it - some dragons found having a human on their back odd, and she'd only need to stay there until it was safe to move back to Cloudjumper. They put a good few miles between them and the trappers before daring to slow down, though in dragon terms that was not much time at all. Valka leapt over to Cloudjumper, rubbing his horn affectionately.

"Let's go!"

Valka didn't notice, not until they were almost back. And by then it was too late. He'd lost consciousness, but given the speed and altitude they'd flown, that wasn't surprising. She was used to the thin air, but most would not be. Hanging from the Windgnashers claws was one of the trappers, hidden from her and Cloudjumpers views as they flew higher up. If she dropped him, he'd likely die from exposure, and that would make her no better than those who left the Nadder out to die, alone in the cold. If she took him back to his fellow trappers, that risked the dragon she flew back on.

And she didn't have _time._ That Nadder needed her.

There was nothing else for it. She would have to take him with her, and deal with him later. Valka disarmed him quickly, tossed his swords out of the way and turned to grab her box of herbs and salves before she headed to the sick dragon.

"Watch him, would you?"

Cloudjumper nodded, keeping watch as Valka dropped to her knees, searching for and treating a few injuries. She sent a few dragons to fetch water and fish, then called over several more Nadders to come closer. Dragons liked warmth from their kin best, and the sickly Nadder _needed_ warmth. Barely any energy went into swallowing the fish, and Valka practically had to pour water and a few herbs down the Nadders throat, but the pack around her got the message quickly and surrounded their fellow dragon, a couple even extending their wings to aid the warmth.

It was touch and go, but gods the dragon had a better chance there than back on the island.

Sighing, Valka got back up and went over to the human, still not entirely sure what to _do_ with him. If she took him back now, unconscious, he wouldn't know where they were to be able to lead anyone back. Just as she decided to ask Cloudjumper if he was up to it, the man began to stir. His eyes opened slow, sluggish, then wide and surprised as he found dragon and rider very close to him, unfamiliar ground beneath him.

"W-where am I?"

"Safe."

His skin was an unhealthy shade of pale, and Valka remembered he'd passed out from cold and thin air. A pointed nod to Cloudjumper had him fetching the nearest pelt of fur, which he flung toward the human as rudely as possible short of setting it on fire. It landed near, and he must have been cold as the trapper snatched it up and wrapped it around himself, clumsily, with one hand.

"T-take me b-back!"

"No. For starters, I doubt you would survive the flight. And secondly, I can't have you leading someone back here. Just... stay there while I think."

Without really thinking, Valka took off her helmet to rub her face, not used to wearing it in the nest.

"Wow. R-really is a w-woman u-under there."

His trembling wasn't abating, Valka noticed, even as she kicked herself for revealing her _face_ to someone who hunted dragons. She was careful not to be seen, so if she visited a traders island nobody would recognise her.

"What's wrong with you?"

"N-nothing."

He hunched in on himself, wincing.

"Are you hurt?"

Valka may disapprove entirely of what he did, and if one got injured fighting to recapture dragons she was rescuing? That was their own stupid fault; dragons were allowed to defend themselves. But she had some basic compassion for a wounded human, and by the state of him Valka almost wondered if she'd missed that he was bleeding. It seemed unlikely - he'd been prone on the ground, and his tunic was light at the sides.

"N-no. J-just... t-take me b-back."

The colour drained out of his face, and from his hunched sitting position, the man still keeled over. Valka rolled her eyes - clearly, he _was_ hurt - and moved over, watching closely in case it was a feint but as soon as she pulled away the pelt, she saw his own fur wrap had slumped along with him, exposing a dark bloodstain on the fabric over his chest. Since he appeared unconscious, Valka peeled the material away, wincing herself when she saw his chest.

_Branded._

She knew Drago was cruel and vile, but she hadn't realised he went as far as branding his workforce as well as his dragons. Though, she supposed to him, they were all the same. Disposable.

"Keep watch, I need more things to treat him."

After a minute, Valka changed tack and had a _very_ wary Cloudjumper carry him along, dropping him next to the firepit in Valka's own quarters. His chills wouldn't help, and she needed the water to clean him up. Wiping the blood away, she saw the angry lines beneath and knew it was fairly fresh, healing delayed by how hard it was not to pull on the skin as it tried to knit back together. He must have leapt up to try and drag the Windgnasher down - _that_ was what she felt - and by the time Valka realised, he'd long succumbed to injury or exposure or both.

Valka coated a piece of cloth in honey, moving to press it to his chest when he woke up, immediately shuffling away from her only to yelp and try to move away from Cloudjumper at his other side.

"Relax. He won't hurt you. I'm just treating your wound."

"I-I don't n-need your help!"

"Then put this on yourself, but it's going on."

He took it from her outstretched hand as though it might burn him, and it probably cost him more pain to apply it himself than was worth the pride of denying Valka's assistance, but he managed to press it down over the mark there with a hiss of pain.

"Satisfied?"

"Not really. Stay there and warm up. I can't take you back if you freeze to death."

Valka brewed up tea, just for something to do, and handed it to his uninjured side insistently before settling back with her own cup full. He frowned at the taste, but didn't stop drinking. All the more unsure what to do now, Valka sighed. She hadn't taken him to the deeper cave, where the Bewilderbeast sat, but he had still seen a lot, and would see more if he was conscious for the trip back. Valka had a few herbs that would knock him out, but might be risky while he was so weak.

Gods, why hadn't she just dropped him?

"If you know whats good for you, you will stay there and warm up. I won't be long. Keep guard Cloudjumper."

She headed out to check on the Nadder, pleased to see their breathing had improved slightly. There was a chance after all. Valka smiled, cheered by the sight of the dragon pile. She dispensed strokes and nuzzles to a few dragons, then went back to her 'guest'. He hadn't moved, though with an enormous Stormcutter looming over him, Valka wasn't surprised.

"You should rest. I'll figure out what to do with you later. There's water in that jug, and a mess bucket just through there. Dragons might come in, but despite what you think, I'd wager you are safer here than with Drago."

He frowned, shaking his head.

"Safe. Dragons. Right."

Valka shrugged, undoing her armour and setting it to the side, stretching her shoulders out and feeling eyes on her.

"What?"

"What's your name?"

"Why do you ask?"

He shrugged, then regretted it if the pain on his face was anything to go by.

"Cus calling you 'angry dragon lady' in my head is really long."

What good would a name do him? Valka had been off the grid for over fifteen years now.

"Valka."

He nodded, mouthing it to himself and grabbing the pelt next to him. Valka doubted he'd _want_ to sleep, but exhaustion would set in - thanks to the tea she gave him, a brew she used when she couldn't sleep herself. She wasn't too keen on sleeping herself, but Cloudjumper was nearby, and Valka never felt safer than with her dragon.

She'd almost dozed off when his voice broke the silence again.

"Eret. My name is Eret."

-HTTYD-

**Yeah, I know, Gobber/Eret and whatever but I have been meaning to write these two for ages and this idea just sort of... solidified with a little help tonight. So here we go.**


End file.
